Chapter Text
Curious shadows and penumbra from the floating candles and the flickering fireplace moved across the room.
The lucidity, the clarity of the night was perfect even with the rain that had soaked the earth and the cold that oozed up through the skin; signalling the approach of winter.
It was another cold Samhain and she sensed with accurate transparency the sky hunkered with loads of sprits vying for her attention.
Unfortunately for them, they would not get it tonight.
She had more pressing matters to attend to.
Nothing about Cassiopeia Elladora Black was soft or subtle as per usual and nothing escaped her attention even though her relaxed face let none of her inner thoughts.
With masterful hands, she resorted to the comfort of her favourite tarot pack and shuffled the cards, ran sharp black fingernails over them then shuffled again constantly stealing glimpses of the future.
“Are we going to sit here all night?” Sirius eyed her warily. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
Harry’s head swivelled between them and then, for some peculiar reason, he decided that Sirius’ expression was funny.
He let out an amused chortle.
“You don’t have to worry about a thing, my dearest nephew. I shall protect your back,” she said with a taunting smirk.
Sirius pressed his lips together in displeasure and eyed her speculatively.
“Dad?” Harry demanded his godfather’s attention and the latter answered at once. He lifted him into his lap and dropped a kiss on his hair.
Cassiopeia thought it was a perfect kiss to seal a perfect bond between a father and his son.
Harry shot her a cheeky wink and she answered with a lifted brow.
Were five-year-olds supposed to be this bold? She wondered again.
She didn’t know, didn’t remember how her siblings used to act a long time ago.
However, she knew that her Apprentice was trouble. His behaviour was so unpredictable, his reflexes were so fast and unluckily for her, he tended to take deep pleasure in sticking to her side most of the day.
It had been four years since she decided to indulge Ignotus Peverell and help his last descendant.
Four years since her life was took a curious turn.
Cassiopeia never lied to herself. She could admit that her generous act brought bits of warmth to her otherwise frigid life.
Nowadays, she spent more time with the living which was something she had never considered since the day she took Mother Magic’s gift with a thankful heart and became the new Black Necromancer.
“Do you have something in mind, Sirius?” she asked absently, her eyes glued to her cards.
A flicker of sadness flitted over his expressive eyes.
Cassiopeia sighed.
Really, how much harder must she work to teach her careless nephew how to hide his inner thoughts?
Emotions were a weakness he could do without.
He was the Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the father of the next Lord Potter-Black.
Failure was not an option. He was not allowed even the tiniest chink in his armour.
Her gaze went to Harry’s eyes and her lip curled with satisfaction.
The silver hues she glimpsed whenever Harry blinked filled her with a great amount of glee.
He was the hope of House Black; whether Dumbledore agreed or not. He had no chance from the start, only his inflated ego couldn’t take the blow and admit the blatant truth.
It took her tremendous work and an obscene amount of wasted time she could use for better things to convince Sirius to blood adopt his godson according to the Olde Ways.
He battled with guilt and heartbreak for a while, then surrendered to her will as expected.
Unsurprisingly, she had another reason she wouldn't divulge yet.
The Blood Adoption cemented Sirius’ status as Harry’s sole legal guardian and the protector of his assets but most importantly, it added another layer of protection around the soul shard Voldemort left the night he was temporarily vanquished.
As soon as 12, Grimmauld Place’s wards enwrapped the three of them, she asked Kreacher to take Sirius to his old room and headed toward the Ritual Room with Harry for a thorough scan.
Blood Magic and Curse Scars left a mark on the soul of the receiver. Always.
Her speculation was right.
That night, a piece of Voldemort’s butchered soul latched on Harry’s pure soul, seeking the warmth it missed for decades. Moreover, his mother’s sacrifice left an aura of protection around his soul.
The child had been twice blessed.
Naturally, only a few could understand her logic and swallow the bittersweet truth.
Harry was handed a gift of the greatest value and she intended to help the child harness that bottomless power and become something Magical Britain hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t going to destroy the Horcrux in his scar even though she could. A drop of Basilisk venom could do the deed in a blink.
Seriously, why destroy the weapon that would bring Voldemort’s demise and provide her with another laugh?
Reciprocation was expected. They would pay him in kind. Tenfold.
All she had to do was make sure that the shard was under control so it wouldn’t take over or harm the child.
As far as she had noted, it was behaving as it should.
It seemed quite enamoured with its new vessel.
Either way, it had no chance against Lily’s Blood Ritual and the Black Magic guarding their charge ardently.
The two layers of protection would incarcerate it the moment it showed bad manners.
Really, how long did she have to tolerate insubordination?
How could Voldemort disregard Death’s authority and try to beat the deity at their own game?
Only the blessed children of Death could handle Soul Magic. Voldemort was deemed unworthy from the moment he committed the gravest of sins and slaughtered his own soul.
“Cassi, I’m ready. Can we—” Harry said brusquely.
She lifted her gaze from her cards and a voiceless message was delivered between them.
Cassiopeia pinned Harry with a knowing look. As predicted, he didn’t shy away from her scrutiny.
A feat only a few could achieve.
“Are you sure?” she asked even though she knew the answer.
“Yes, please,” he bit his lip failing to hide his eagerness. The look in his eyes was pure, unbridled love.
She could scarcely believe how easily this child could be satisfied.
She had to work harder on improving his standards.
“What’s going on here?” Sirius’ brows furrowed together.
Cassiopeia didn’t bother to hide her smile.
Gracefully, she waved her wand rearranging the card and stood. “Once again, you disappoint me, Sirius,” she sighed dramatically. “Your mother was a heathen, an abomination and failed miserably at educating her son and the Heir of the family properly. That, though, doesn’t include the rest of us.”
Harry observed the exchange impatiently. When Sirius failed to produce a worthy answer, he jumped to his feet and dragged him out of his pathetic, slumped position.
“We will conduct Samhain’s Ritual. It’s our duty to remind the dead that they will always remain in our hearts,” Harry explained hastily, repeating what he taught him a few days ago faithfully.
The child was quite attentive which was a blessing considering she couldn’t handle dunderheads.
Sirius had apparently lost his ability to communicate the moment Harry finished.
“But—I mean, we—‘’ He swallowed thickly.
Cassiopeia took pity on her nephew considering she understood how hard this particular night was on him. “Harry is five. A reasonable age to participate in a Sacred Day Ritual, if I might say so. He wants to pay his respects to his parents.”
She couldn’t deny that she had a fair progress with Sirius’ education. However, he was far from the perfect Lord Black he was meant to be.
There was more to him, so much more. And she would bring all that out even if it killed him.
“As Harry’s blood-father, you have to supervise him while he offers his libations,” she shrugged like she was talking about her favourite book. “I have everything ready in the Ritual Room.”
“Dad?” Harry’s voice held the edge of impatience.
“Yes, yes, let’s do it,’’ Sirius cleared his throat. He eyed her darkly. “You could have warned me, you know,” he added gruffly.
“Why would I bother? You should know how to celebrate the Sacred Days fittingly,” she drawled with fake innocence. “I stand by my opinion that you should consider my offer of seeing to your education. I can help you, my dearest. I’m not sure you are spending enough time in the library going over Arcturus’ notes.”
“No!” Sirius shouted as if the prospect was inconceivable.
Cassiopeia tsked. “Have it your way. But be warned, I will have your hide if you dare embarrass House Black in the Wizengamot chambers. Just one breach of manners and you shall meet my displeasure.”
Harry let out a peal of laughter when Sirius growled, his face taut with indignation. “I’m not a child!”.
The night was heavy with heart-wrenching memories, but as she saw the twinkle in Harry’s eyes, she couldn’t help the faint smile that lifted her lips.
As farfetched as it sounded, there was hope, even in loss.